Fallin' Off The World
by Scribbler
Summary: [Complete] Small actions can have great consequences, and the only thing in this world you can truly count on is change. Continued in Lament. [New Mutants fic]
1. Part One

DISCLAIMER: Theirs is theirs, mine is mine. I just write to demonstrate how much I like the characters they created. Suing me would be an utter waste of time as the only things of monetary value I own are a bunch of textbooks and a pot plant called Sid.   
AUTHOR'S NOTES: After a little gentle prodding from Idsunki I gave this style another shot and saw where it took me, so you have him to blame for this offering. I can't say where it came from, exactly. The plot bunny just jumped out from behind a wall on the way to a lecture and bit me (savage little bugger). Still, at least it didn't go the same way most of my fics in first person narrative do (i.e. the recycle bin).  
  
Draws rather heavily on comic-verse (note; draws on - meaning some things are altered slightly, so no picking on me about exact details), and from the universe I created in my New Mutants introduction fic, 'New and Improved' (henceforth to be known as NAI). If you have no idea what I'm talking about and have never read NAI then don't worry. Most important points are expounded here, too. To people who *have* read it, kudos!   
  
Takes place in the same generic part of Season Two, as most of my fics do, when the X-Men were all present and accounted for, and mutants weren't yet a feature on local or any other news network. This first part is rather short, especially when compared to the other two, but Rahne really didn't have much to say on the matter. Just bear with me a second, OK? Title comes from a song of the same name by America.  
  
___________________  
'Fallin' Off the World' By Scribbler   
Part One of Three  
  
___________________  
_Through Rahne's Eyes_  
I've never been much of a morning person. Not really. Oh sure, back home it was expected for everybody to be an early riser, but I flatly refused to be bright eyed and bushy tailed. As I still maintain, I'll rise, but I won't shine. As far as I'm concerned, morning requires daylight. No daylight, no morning, and no getting up.  
  
A shame nobody else seems to share my philosophy, huh?  
  
Which is why, when I'd finished battering my alarm clock to death and crawled out of bed that morning, I wasn't exactly in the best of moods. Why is it that Logan insists on waking us a so goddamn early? I mean, American school is bad enough. Back home it's customary to start at 9a.m. and not a minute before. I don't mind admitting I was horrified when I first learned what time they started over here in the States. And then good 'ole Logan has to lumber us with pre-carpool training sessions too. I swear that man's a sadist or something.  
  
Still, every time I somehow manage to drag myself out from under the covers and stumble into my clothes. There've been a few occasions where I put my uniform on backwards - most notably the time I got halfway down the corridor before realising what I'd done, and then had to scrabble back to my room and change it before anyone saw. Ray'd never get off my back if he heard about something like that. He's like a vulture, always looking for a weak spot he can pick at, just to see what kind of reaction he'll get. Gets on my nerves sometimes.  
  
Still, on this particular morning I had no problems clothing-wise. I washed my face, made my bed and tamed my hair into its usual style before heading off to the kitchen for something edible.   
  
Logan's always telling us not to eat before a training session, but I can't help it. I think it must be to do with my mutation or something, but I'm always hungry when I wake up, no matter what time it is. It could be the wee hours of the morning, and I'd still be hankering for something to eat.  
  
Kurt was there when I arrived - when is he ever not near food? - sitting on the counter top like some kind of plush hood ornament. Of course, *he* didn't have a training session, just us newbies. He was still in his pyjamas; plates of breakfast piled high in both hands and watching some cartoon or other on the TV attached to the wall. He barely even noticed when I walked in, just gave me a wave and burbled something through his mouthful that could've been hello.   
  
"You know, Ororo might not appreciate you putting footprints there," I commented idly, opening the fridge and looking out the plastic container of muffins I knew was somewhere towards the back.  
  
Kurt swallowed, breaking his eyes away from the riveting sight of Dexter's Laboratory. "She'll only know about it if you tell her."  
  
I shrugged, moving aside last night's cling-film covered lasagne. Where were - ah, there they were. I reached in and yanked out the box, sending a couple of Evan's calcium-enriched orange juices tumbling in the process. Recently he'd taken to visiting the special vegan store in town to supply his mutation in other ways after so many people complained about all the milk in the refrigerator going off and taking up space. I knew, because I'd been one of them.   
  
I replaced the juice and retrieved my muffin, nibbling on it as I returned Kurt's stare.  
  
"What's to say I won't tell her?"  
  
"Would you honestly send someone this adorable to face the wrath of a weather witch?" He pulled his best puppy-dog eyes, the one he's been trying to wow Kitty with for over a year now, with little success.   
  
I couldn't help but laugh at him, perched there with his waffles in one hand, eggs in the other and grease running down his chin. Kurt's one of the most loved X-Men, despite his demonic appearance. Those eyes of his could put infant canines the world over to shame, even though they're bright gold and glow in the dark.   
  
"Not the look! Anything but the look!" I said, humouring him.   
  
He grinned in that fangy way he does, tossing his head back. He hadn't brushed his hair yet, I noticed, but it hardly mattered. Can a guy look cute with fangs and pointed ears? Somehow, he manages to look huggable anyway. Not in a boy-girl, holding-hands-in-school kind of way, but in that I-want-to-make-a-plushie-doll-of-you-and-huggle-it kind.  
  
"Ha *ha*! I am Spartacus!"  
  
"Well, Spartacus, would you mind passing me the coffee?"   
  
It's no secret that I need at least two cups of joe to wake up my reflexes enough that I'll survive a training session with Logan in the mornings, although I have to be careful about who used the coffee-maker last. If Mr. Sunshine's had it, then I might as well just go and chew a caffeine capsule, because all it'll produce for the next few rounds is economy grade sludge that not even *I* would venture trying. I did once, against my better judgement and the warnings given me. I couldn't sleep for three days and I'm still getting the gack off my tongue. Not a pleasant experience to say the least.  
  
Luckily for me though, it seemed that Scott had been in here last. He and I share beverage intensity tastes, even though he makes fun of me for liking coffee. He says I'm too young. I tell him that I'm not going to get any older if I don't drink it and end up getting killed by a Danger Room sim because I'm half-asleep.  
  
I poured a cup and munched my way through the muffin, watching cartoons with Kurt until finally I looked at the clock - watches are a definite no-no in the Danger Room unless you have an endless supply, or else they're of the indestructible variety - and sighed that I had to be going unless I wanted to be on clean-up detail for tardiness. He told me that it wouldn't be a first time, and I cuffed him upside the head so that he lost his balance and sat in the sink.  
  
When I eventually trawled into the Danger Room, I was one of the last to arrive. Logan spared me a raised eyebrow, but didn't say anything. One of his better moods, I decided, and brightened a little. Perhaps he wouldn't be so tough on us today.  
  
Can you say, 'wishful thinking'?  
  
"OK, boys and girls, settle down," he growled when the last of us arrived. As per usual, Jubilee and Amara brought up the rear, Jubilee because she's never been on time for anything in her life and Amara because she doesn't *do* acting on other people's schedules.   
  
I nudged Bobby, who was next to me and acting a pest, also as per usual. I think he might've been trying to impress Jubilee, but she hadn't noticed and Logan had. Bobby must not have been expecting me to do it, because he stumbled sideways into Jamie, who fell over and promptly multiplied.  
  
"Hey!" three of him said, whilst the other four glared up from where they were sprawled on the floor.   
  
"Icecube," Logan barked out. I don't think that man even knows *how* to speak normally. His usual voice is somewhere between a growl and a grunt, and the only variations come when he's screaming like a wild thing or just generally yelling at us. "You just volunteered to demonstrate."  
  
Bobby gulped. "Demonstrate what, exactly?"  
  
"This."   
  
Logan gestured up at the control room where a big ball of blue fur hit a few buttons and sent the machines humming into life. Since I knew Kurt was in the kitchen, it could only have been Mr. McCoy, but he didn't wave or anything. In fact, he looked rather grumpy to be there. Apparently, mornings aren't his best time either.   
  
Something about that made me feel a little better. Not much, but a little.  
  
Behind Logan the Danger Room shimmered and changed, holograms coming into play and turning it into a simulation of a rocky mountaintop. I recognised it instantly from what some of the older kids had once said when we all seemed to be struck by insomnia and gather in the kitchen. This was one of Logan's favourites, and subsequently, one of the most difficult sims. I heard a few groans from others that'd done likewise.  
  
See what I mean about that man being a sadist?  
  
"The object," said Logan, stalking forwards and pointing, "Is to get these through the sim without any of 'em breakin' or gettin' damaged in any way. An' when I say any way, I mean *any* way." From under his arm, he held up the strange clear plastic box we'd all been straining to see since we got there.   
  
Inside, held in place by an assortment of prongs and small round holes, were a dozen raw eggs.  
  
"But... but that's impossible," said Sam. I nodded my agreement, as did many others. After all, Sam had grown up on a farm in Kentucky and spent most of his life milking cows and fetching chicken eggs. He should know how easy it was to transport them anywhere - or not, as the case may be. "Not with... with the sim running as well."  
  
Logan arched his aerobic eyebrow. "An' just how would you know what else this sim entails, Farmboy?"  
  
Sam blushed, cheeks turning a deep crimson. Other people might've thought it was because we're not supposed to know anything about these sims. The older kids would get into trouble if it were found out they'd been telling us shortcuts and things, and Sam's slip-of-the-tongue might've done just that. But I knew he was also blushing because he hated that nickname.   
  
Logan had given it to him not long after he arrived, and since Sam was scared witless by him at that point, he hadn't argued. Still, it chafed at him that he was only known by where he'd come from and not who he was. Pigeonholed before he'd even finished unpacking his things. He'd once confided it to me on another insomniac night when we met in the hall and, rather than try to pass the time alone, retired to his room to talk and fritter it away together instead.   
  
Sam looked up and caught my eye. I smiled what I hoped was a comforting smile, but he just blushed even deeper.   
  
Hmm, I was going to have to work on my comforting look if it was getting that kind of reaction.   
  
"Icecube!" Logan snapped us back to ourselves, and we all watched as Bobby moved sheepishly forward.  
  
"Yes, sir?" He was using his best if-I'm-good-you-won't-trash-me-right? voice.  
  
"You're gonna do a walk-through, no powers allowed, without the eggs, to show everyone what they're up against. First rule of any mission, know what you're gettin' yourself into."   
  
Bobby walked up the narrow trail towards the peak with many a backward glance. Unlike some of us, Bobby sleeps like a log and had never been privy to the Danger Room secrets passed across the kitchen table at bumblefuck in the morning. We knew what was coming next. He didn't.  
  
He didn't look happy to be up there in front of everyone, which was kind of ironic considering he's usually the first one to show off in any given situation. He loves to prove he's better than he is, which is why the Professor's reluctant to let him near anything remotely electric or mechanical. Especially after that whole joyriding thing when Lance was here. Yeesh. Jubilee tried to get me to go with them more than once, and seemed pretty upset when I refused. I know my limits, and both flying and driving are several miles above it. In the UK, I don't even qualify for a learner's permit yet.  
  
All seemed quiet for a few minutes. We noticed it and so did Bobby. His step got a bit cockier, and still nothing happened. By the time he neared the summit, he was practically waltzing in that way that he does. Too bad he wasn't watching Logan.   
  
I saw the little hand movement, the one Mr. McCoy must've been watching out for. Just a tiny flick of the wrist, and then suddenly a howling gale sprang up out of nowhere. Bobby yelped, the force of it nearly blowing him off his feet. It didn't help that, five seconds later, it started to rain. I'm not talking a little drizzle here. I mean it was lashing fit to burst, with bits of sleet and hail added in for good measure.   
  
Bobby howled as loud as the wind, and I don't blame him. I've been out in storms like that, and let me tell you it's no fun. The rain's like a knife cutting your cheek, and after a few minutes of trying to battle through it, you start to wonder if you'll ever get warm again  
  
He staggered around, and for a minute, it looked like he was going to turn back. Then he thought better of it, and struggled on, cresting the peak and disappearing from our collective view.  
  
Logan grunted and pointed to a viewscreen Mr. McCoy had somehow lowered from the ceiling without us noticing. It crackled and fizzled to life, showed a mass of grey dots and squiggly lines for a moment, and then zoomed in through one of the video cameras peppering the Danger Room's on the image of Bobby, still gamely trying to make his way through the simulated storm. It was so severe, even on camera, that I had to wonder if Ororo was hiding somewhere and aiming her powers right at him. From his expression, he might've been thinking the same, only with more expletives.  
  
We watched as Bobby stumbled, fell, and picked himself up again. His uniform was obviously soaked through, and though I couldn't hear it, I felt sure his feet must be slapping on the stone. My throat tightened with memories of being caught out in the open in a storm like that, and I had to remind myself that it was all just a hologram.  
  
I don't care what anyone says. Sometimes these simulations are too real to be comfortable.   
  
Trying not to think too much of it, I glanced across at the others and found to my surprise that Jubilee was looking my way. Everyone else was still enrapt with the miniature drama playing out on the screen, including Logan, and I was a little disconcerted to see that she wasn't also. It was no secret that Bobby was sweet on her. You'd think she'd show his predicament a bit more concern, or at least a passing interest.   
  
She shuffled closer, and I inclined my head at the screen.  
  
"Bet you wish you were out there with him," I whispered, hoping Logan wouldn't hear.  
  
She frowned a little. "Why would I want to be out in that mess sooner than I have to be?"  
  
"So you could warm him up." I waggled my eyebrows suggestively. Comforting smiles aren't my forte, but suggestive grins I can do.   
  
Jubilee looked a little shocked at my words - it's funny, I never figured her for a prude or anything. Quite the opposite, in fact - but whatever it was she was about to say was lost as Bobby suddenly cried out and we snapped back to the screen, just in time to see him tumble down a crevasse.  
  
A collective gasp went around the group. Well, what would you do if you just saw your default leader fall to what appeared to be his death? However, Logan didn't seem unduly bothered, and he waved up at Mr. McCoy, who shut off the simulation. The rain stopped, the wind died, and the rocky mountaintop faded away to become the Danger Room we all knew and loved to hate.   
  
Bobby clambered off the crash mat and waddled towards us, dripping water. He moved, as my mother would say, like a pregnant duck. All floppery, each footstep a wet splat on the metal floor.  
  
"You, have got," he said when we were in earshot, "To be kidding me."  
  
"When have you ever known me to joke, kid?" Logan's question was a valid one, but didn't do much to comfort poor old soggy Bobby.   
  
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ray snigger. It looked like Bobby was going to be hearing about this for quite some time if he and Roberto had anything to do with it. It's a little sad that the only time those two agree on something is when it's at the expense of others. The rest of the time they're at each other's throats, or at the very least trying to pummel the stuffing out of their respective kidneys.  
  
"OK, everybody." Logan's voice was like a knell, and we all heaved a collective sigh. "Get ready. Beast, reboot and power up the sim again."  
  
"Then can I go back to bed?" Mr. McCoy's voice was thin, like he really didn't see the joke in all of this. Can't say that I blame him.   
  
Logan ignored him, instead turning to Roberto and thrusting the box of eggs into his hands. "You get dibs on this thing first, kid. It can change hands as many times as is necessary, but remember, if one of those eggs even gets so much as a hairline crack, you all fail. Same thing with using powers. Any one of you consciously uses 'em, you all fail. You all gotta learn how to get along using your brains and initiative instead of relying on your abilities all the time. I don't care how you do it, or how long it takes, so long as those eggs get over the finishin' line at the end of the sim intact. But remember, you all got school this mornin', too, so don't take all day about it. Just to boost you up a bit, if you *do* fail, then you'll all join me for another go this evening after school, an' we'll *keep* rerunnin' the sim until you *do* get it right."  
  
"Oh joy," said the tannoy. Logan shot the control room a look.  
  
"Ready?"  
  
Jamie shooed the remaining copies of himself onto the bench, where they at grumbling until, one-by-one, they disappeared. The rest of us got into a line, including Bobby.   
  
I waited, tensing my muscles. My eyes darted to where Logan's hand was raised above his head. We'd all done enough training sessions with him to know that, when he dropped his arm, that was the signal to start. He'd never said as such, but somehow we'd all just known the day we arrived that he'd rely more on bodily movements than words. I guess that's just the kind of guy he is.  
  
I watched as the fans in the walls began to turn, and the holographic mountainside turned back on. A long trail stretched before us, rather narrow and bordered by outcrops and boulders bigger than we were. The Danger Room almost hummed with all of our pent-up energy, and ever-eager Roberto practically champed at the bit to get going.  
  
Logan smirked at us. He knew this wasn't going to be easy.  
  
He dropped his hand, for the first time verbalising that we should move.  
  
"Go!"  
___________________ 


	2. Part Two

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Sorry to bring this up again, but to anybody who wondered about the last scene between Jubilee and Rahne in NAI, all answers are contained in here. I said I was working on a Rahne origin fic from last Summer that dealt with that, but it never panned out, and after reading some info about the comic-verse New Mutants I decided to abandon the project completely. Hence this fic came into being.   
  
Definite comic influences, but also several changes to bring it into line with both Evo and my version of things. Flames will be ignored and deleted in that order.  
___________________  
  
'Fallin' Off The World' By Scribbler  
Part Two of Three  
___________________  
  
_Through Sam's Eyes_  
I got up that morning the same as I usually did.  
  
Late.   
  
Even so, when I ran down to the Danger Room, I was one of the first there. The only other people around were Logan and Roberto, and they both looked up when I barged in. Logan spared me a nod - high praise indeed - but looked a little bored nonetheless. No matter what anybody says about the guy, I don't think he enjoys these early morning training sessions any more than we do. He just thinks that we need them, and that's enough to get him out of bed with probably less grumbling than the rest of us.  
  
Roberto immediately started telling me about this project we're supposed to be working on together for Biology class. It wasn't due in for another three weeks, but you know Roberto. I can't remember who called him Eager Beaver first - probably Logan - but it fits him just fine.   
  
Let me tell you, that time in the morning was not the best time to be yapping at me about mitochondria, oxygen and plant cells. I think Roberto could tell after a while that I wasn't really listening, but he kept on talking. I guess he didn't want to loose face in front of Logan. He really looks up to the guy, even if Logan either doesn't know, or doesn't acknowledge it half the time.  
  
When the other guys came in I was glad. It gave me a chance to break away from Roberto and clamp him onto someone else, which happened to be Bobby that day. Don't get me wrong, it's not that I don't like them, it's just that I was tired, and had the scum of all scum crusting my eyelids. They yakked at each other, and I just kind of hung around to the side, waiting for the gunk in my eyes to clear up so that I could see properly. It wouldn't look too good if I fell over my own feet in the sim.   
  
I remember watching the door after a while. I could say I don't know why I did it, but I'd be lying, and my Ma always taught me that lying's the sort of thing that'll get me sent straight to Hades. I'm not a Pulpit Pounder myself, but I got her point, if not for quite the same reason. Lies have a way of catching up to folk and making life difficult later on. Just ask Mystique, wherever she is.  
  
Oh what wicked webs we weave, when first we practise to deceive. Cliché, I know, and probably not completely right, but you get the general idea.   
  
So, anyway, like I said, I watched the door. Jamie tried to talk to me for a bit, but I always kept one eye fixed on that door. I saw everybody else come in, and then it looked as if Logan was going to start and give all latecomers tardiness detail; which translates roughly as washing the X-Jet for a week each, and as Kurt will tell you, that's by no means an easy task. Heck, I'll vouch for that myself! After all, I had to do it too that once after the whole joyriding fiasco. Man, I still wonder about that. What exactly was I thinking? I'm not usually one for stealing stuff - which is essentially what we were doing - but somehow Bobby managed to talk me into it. Silver-tongued devil that he is.  
  
Then she walked in, crumpling a muffin case and tossing it into the trash can just outside the door like she didn't have a care in the world and wasn't risking prune-thumbs for lateness.   
  
I'm not a particularly sappy guy. I don't like chick flicks, and hearts and roses do nothing for me. Still, my stomach could've entered the Olympic for gymnastics with all the flip-flips it was doing right then.  
  
Rahne's been my best friend since day one at the Institute. She was the first person to meet me at the door when I arrived, and acted like she'd known me all her life from the moment I shook her hand and nearly had my arm pumped off. I don't know quite how she did it. I didn't have many friends back home, since our farm was pretty much cut off from anywhere, so my social interaction as a kid was pretty much limited to siblings and other family members when they dropped in to visit. But from the very start I felt like we'd always been buddies. Didn't matter if we were hanging out at the mall, playing Frisbee, or just doing homework, we always had fun. She could make me laugh, just by being her.   
  
That's the funny thing about Rahne; she puts people at ease by being herself. Well, Jean does the same, I suppose. She's good with sales pitches to folk just finding out their powers, but she's had to work at it to get the friendliness factor just right. Rahne doesn't have to do that. It's like, you meet her and 'poof', she automatically looks on you as a friend. Innocent until proven guilty; friends until proven otherwise. She exudes some kind of aura that makes you want to be with her, even if she's drinking that damn awful coffee of hers, or wearing a bathrobe with a cleansing strip on her nose, apologising for taking too long in the bathroom. I don't think I've ever met a person who doesn't like her, even though they know that her 'other half', her wolf-side, can be real nasty to tangle with.  
  
Jeez, I sound like I'm defending the gal, don't I? Well, I'm not. I'm just trying to let you in on what things were like, so you get the full picture, y'know? So you know what things were like before. I remember once hearing in a sociology class that it's easier to understand the actions of the individual if you can see them in their natural state.   
  
I'm not entirely sure when things started to change. Well, they didn't change for her, at least, but they changed for me. We'd always spent a lot of time together, since we're both from the countryside and junk - even though my style of countryside is *very* different than hers. Kentucky and Scotland ain't exactly similar places to be at. Still, we talked about our homes, what we wanted to do with our lives, where we thought the future was going for mutantkind, or just about whatever movie was on the Sci-Fi channel that night. She was never very forthcoming about her homelife before Muir Island, but I didn't care. I just liked spending time with her, and if she didn't want to yak about it then that was fine by me.  
  
I think, in the end, it was a comment from Bobby that clued me in. Kind of ironic considering how his lovelife's turned out. He likes Jubilee a lot - I mean he *likes* likes her - but I don't think she looks on him as more than a friend, really. Still, it was a wisecrack from the 'King of Cool' himself that got me thinking. Something about me drooling into a bowl of dog chow, as I recall. It wasn't until then that I realised what a dumbass I'd been.  
  
You see, I'd started getting feelings for Rahne. Feelings that went deeper than friendship. Much deeper.  
  
You might be thinking now, 'what's wrong with that'? But you see, the thing is, I hadn't meant to. They just kind of grew there, and by the time I recognised them it was too late. I couldn't get rid of them without making things awkward.   
  
I didn't want to jeopardise our friendship by bringing them into it. Rejection I could probably handle, but I've seen the 'let's-be-friends' schtick happen around school enough to know that once feelings are out in the open it's nigh on impossible for things to go back to being the way they were. I didn't want to lose what I already had, so I clammed up and tried to ignore them; carry on like I wasn't watching every time she came in the room, like my mouth didn't go dry when she talked to me, like...  
  
You get the general idea.  
  
It was difficult, though. I don't know if you've ever tried denying something that refuses to stay down. I stamped on those feelings, buried them as deep as they'd go, but still they kept coming back. Usually at the most inopportune moments, too. I won't go into details, but you know what I mean.   
  
I'm not exactly a ladies' man. In point of fact I usually get tongue-tied around girls at school. One-too-many wisecracks about my height and general klutziness back home didn't exactly do wonders for my self-confidence either. I'll admit it, I'm clumsy, and I haven't quite grown into my body yet. There's no need to keep shoving the fact down my throat.  
  
Which is why, when she walked in that morning, I suddenly felt like I'd swallowed an anvil and a bowling ball. In that order.  
  
I won't bore you with the details of what happened next. It's pretty much standard, as with every morning we newbies have an early training session. Logan explained the sim to us, picked on someone to demonstrate - today it was Bobby, the poor sap - and walked the narrow line between using him for the dummy run and point blank humiliating him.   
  
Logan's a strange character that way. Sometimes he's like the gruff old uncle of the Institute, ready to bail us kids out when we need him; and sometimes you're really not sure if he's serious when he waves those claws at you. I'd warn anybody to watch their step around that guy, no matter how long he's known them.  
  
Anyhow, it turned out that that day's gauntlet involved getting a bunch of raw eggs from A to B without breaking a one. Over a mountaintop. In the middle of a storm. Without powers.   
  
Sometimes I'm inclined to believe Rahne when she calls Logan a sadist.   
  
We lined up, ready for the off. I snuck a glance down the line and saw that Bobby was trying to wring out what he could of his suit while still wearing it, and both Rahne and Jubilee were laughing at him for it and trying not to look like their shoulders were shaking.   
  
Jubilee is Rahne's other best friend. Mine too. It doesn't matter how good buddies a boy and a girl can be, the girl always seems to need female support too, and Jubilee's it. It seemed kind of natural that those two would click, seeing as how they ended up spending a few weeks sharing a room right back at the beginning, when we first became X-Men. I guess we made trio, of sorts, even though Rahne didn't always accompany Jubes and me on some of our more... adventurous escapades. Like snatching the X-Jet and flying it into a mountain.   
  
Word of advice; it's never a good idea to think about nearly crashing into a mountaintop when you're about to scale a stormy one in an all-too-realistic sim.  
  
I watched Logan's arm drop, and my feet were moving even as he shouted, "Go!"  
  
Instinctively, we all fell into a haphazard, caterpillar-like line, with Roberto and the eggs in the middle for protection. We'd been training for long enough now to realise that this was the best option if we were going to succeed, and we trawled up the trail as fast as he could go without powers, a few of us keeping close so that if he fell we could either grab him or grab the eggs before they smashed.  
  
Somehow I ended up at the front of the line, so when the winds started up I got it first. The force was so great that it nearly knocked me off my feet, and if it hadn't been for Ray grabbing my arm I swear I would've toppled over and gone snowballing into everybody else. Ray's a loudmouth and annoying as hell when he wants to be, but he's a team player when it counts.   
  
Then came the rain. I can honestly say I've never felt cold like it. It took my breath away, and when I opened my mouth to gasp I got a mouthful of water and almost choked.  
  
Not a very promising start, to say the least. Still, we struggled on, Roberto somehow managing to keep his feet on the ground and the plastic box of eggs in his arms. I looked back at him a couple of times, and over his head I could see Logan watching us all like a hawk. His costume's hood was down and he was frowning in concentration, beady eyes fixed on our backs to make sure we didn't slip a little of our powers in there, no doubt. I wanted to be angry with him, but I suppose I knew he was doing this for our own good. If we ever got caught out and couldn't use our abilities on a mission we'd be looking pretty sick, not knowing what to do. I just hoped the others all saw it the same way.  
  
Straggly and stumbling, we somehow managed to crest the rise, and right then my eyes very nearly dropped out of my head. Bobby had been the only one of us to see the rest of the sim in all its glory, the rest of us confined to watching a small square of viewscreen and wondering what awaited us.  
  
From somewhere to my left, Ray's words said it all.  
  
"You *are* shittin' me!"  
  
Spread before us like something out of a picture postcard was what looked like an entire mountain range, snow-capped peaks and shadowy troughs all ready and accounted for. Its raw majesty was visible even through the sheets of sleet and wind powering into our eyes, and I heard several people behind us give involuntary gasps and squeaks.   
  
Of course, we all knew that most of it was hologram and *only* hologram, with no substance behind it, and all designed to make us think the situation was worse than it actually was. Still, we also knew that the holograms were designed to shift along with us, as did the machinery beneath our feet, like a treadmill so that the simulated trail could go on as long as Logan wanted it to and not be governed by the limits of the Danger Room walls.   
  
Not an encouraging thought.  
  
"You know," I said, covering my eyes and wishing I was somewhere else dry and warm, like my bed, "I've never understood that phrase, but no, I don't think he is."  
  
"Less talky, more walky!" Amara snapped. Being second line of defence she was right behind the pair of us, and practically shoved me and Ray aside to pass by and glare. She's from a hot climate, from what I can gather, so I suppose she hated the cold and wet even more than we did.  
  
"We're supposed to be a team, Magma," I told her - a little waspishly, I must admit. I'm not exactly a huge fan of the cold - especially when it's driving in my face like a solid wall of water. "Team's have to stick together and follow the plan."  
  
"And I want to get this over with some time this century," she replied. "Besides, what plan?"  
  
Good question. Usually I'd defer to Bobby on that point, but a quick glance at his miserable, extra-soggy face told me he wasn't in the plan-making mood.  
  
"We, uh," I started, thinking. "We... stick close to Roberto and move like a pack."  
  
Ray shot me a disparaging look at my phraseology, but by that point I was already to sodden to care. He could tease me about it later, when I wasn't freezing cold and getting wetter by the second.  
  
Amara rolled her eyes. "Well that's just pure *genius,* isn't it?" Still, she fell back into line anyway. I think she was glad someone was taking a little more control, instead of all of us just meandering around like lost kittens in a squall.  
  
I sighed and started off, beckoning the others to follow. They moved forward as a tight knot, clustering around Roberto and keeping him as protected as they could. I caught a glimpse of his face in their midst, just before a random elbow knocked him in the cheek. He looked even less happy than the rest of us, since his hands were too preoccupied to shelter his face.  
  
Somehow we got down the slope, over the increasingly big piles of rocks and into the lull between the two outcroppings. The 'mountains' weren't quite as vast as our eyes had at first told us, but we didn't let up our guard or try anything stupid, like try to run. We knew that Logan and Beast were watching us from somewhere in that unreal cloudy sky, and not one of us wanted to go through this rigmarole again, thank you very much.   
  
However, it was at that point that things started to get a little trickier.  
  
Scratch that. Make it, a *lot* trickier.  
  
None of the older kids ever told us this sim involved earthquakes.   
  
The first one was just a rumble really, but it juddered under our feet. Ray snapped around and demanded, "What was that?"   
  
Like *I* knew?  
  
I shrugged at him, and we kept on walking until the next one came, harder this time. A few pebbles not being battered to earth by the rain started to tremble, and it was about then that I got an inkling of what was going on. However, since we were halfway up the next incline at that point, there wasn't much we could do except keep going, so I just kept my trap shut. Best not to worry folk, I thought.  
  
Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder, and looked around to find Amara staring at me. "I used to live near an active volcano," she said. Gee, why didn't that surprise me? Still, I just looked blankly at her. "When it was about to erupt, we had earth tremors."   
  
Even though we were walking she had her hands on her hips, and somehow managed to look at me like I was a piece of dirt for not picking up on this little titbit earlier.  
  
I made sure nobody could hear me, and then hissed, "What would you have me do? No powers, remember? They'll panic and we'll screw everything up."  
  
She might've been about to reply, but her no-doubt-acid retort was swallowed up by a quake that made everybody stop still just so they could keep their feet until it passed.  
  
OK, time face the music.  
  
"Keep tight, everyone," I said, hoping I sounded authoritative. I'm not experienced at this whole leadership thing; that's Bobby's forte. "If I know Logan, these tremors are gonna keep getting bigger the further we go. If we stick together we can maybe weather 'em. Just... keep your heads, OK?"  
  
And we did. Right up to the top and back down the other side again without dropping the eggs or falling over. I have to admit, I was feeling pretty pleased with our progress. To use a phrase Rahne's forever spouting; aside from the rain, sleet, cold and occasionally moving ground, this was a doddle.  
  
I think Ray was a bit more pessimistic than I was, because he kept glancing around and peered at the floor. "I don't like this," he said at last. "It's too easy."  
  
"We ain't seen the finishing line yet. Still might be a ways to go," I reminded him, but his attitude put me on edge despite myself, and I started watching the ground as well.  
  
Which is probably why I didn't realise what was going on at first when a scream sounded out behind us. Both Ray and I whipped around, fists instinctively ready in a combat stance, only to see that a deep hole had opened up in the ground where we'd been standing not so long ago, and where Amara had been walking before the earth promptly swallowed her up.   
  
She sat at the bottom of the narrow drop, rubbing her arm and glaring up at us as if it was our fault that spontaneous potholes were an added bonus of this sim. It was barely big enough for her not to get wedged in, and the part of my brain that enjoys tormenting me wondered what would've happened if *I'd* fallen in there. Oh yes, very good - getting stuck in a hole. Yet another thing to pick on my height about. I'd never hear the end of it.  
  
"So what do we do now, oh fearless leader?" asked Roberto from somewhere amongst the mass of bodies.  
  
It took a second to register that he was talking to me and not Bobby, and I faltered. "Um, human chain?" It was the best I could come up with on my toes, and Bobby glanced at me. I couldn't tell through the rain if he minded me taking over for the moment, and his tone told me exactly nothing. I mean, it wasn't as if we'd elected him leader or anything. It'd just... kind of happened that way. Like Jubes and Rahne being friends, or Tabby leaving after the mess with her Pa.  
  
"The objective of the mission," he parroted, "Is to get the eggs over the finishing line, whatever the cost - or else Logan'll kick our butts all the way around the Institute and back again."  
  
Well, I can tell you now, I fairly bristled at that. "X-Men don't leave team members behind," I told him. Then I realised what a sanctimonious piece I sounded. A little like Cyclops on a bad day. So I leaned in and added, "Besides, you know you wouldn't leave her behind if she were Jubes."  
  
He glowered at me, but it was too cold for his cheeks to get any redder, and I'd kept my voice low enough that nobody else would hear over the thwacking rain.   
  
In the end it turned out that it was myself, Ray and Rahne who got Amara out. The others stayed close to Roberto in a circling clutch, watching us and occasionally calling out encouragement. I acted as the anchor, sitting with my legs wrapped around a jutting out rock nearby and holding Ray's feet in my hands. He lay flat on the ground for leverage, and lowered Rahne down to grab hold of Amara and haul her out. Since she was the lightest of us aside from Jamie - who couldn't be used for the job in case he accidentally multiplied and got *everybody* stuck in there - Rahne accepted the decision, and it all went off without a hitch. She held tight onto Amara's arms, yelled up to Ray, and both he and I dragged the two of them out of there.  
  
Amara sniffed at us as we got up, but said a grudging, "Thank you," all the same. I could tell it annoyed her that she hadn't been able to get on her own, but we just shrugged it off. There's a time for independence, and a time to just accept the help that's given you.  
  
I felt a hand pat my shoulder as I stood, and turned around, leaving my stomach on the floor as I realised it was Rahne.  
  
"Good job," she said, and gave me a thumbs up with her other hand. "That ought to gain us a few Brownie points with Logan."  
  
"Uh, yeah," I said, kicking myself that I wasn't more eloquent. Dangit! "Er... thanks." Thanks? *Thanks*? Ugh, I couldn't even put two darn words together, and she'd just given me a compliment.   
  
Rahne cocked her head to one side - oh God, she noticed it too! - but said nothing. Instead, she just patted my shoulder again, recoiled as a rumble of thunder went by overhead, and went to rejoin the main group.  
  
I think it was something in that last pat that got me. Something about her touch. Hang on a second, not in that way! I - uh - I mean, she seemed kind of... tense. I don't know, a little more on edge that usual. See, she's patted my shoulder before as a 'well done' when we play the other guys at soccer and stuff - it's a habit of hers, I guess - but this time it was... different somehow. Her fingers seemed to dig in a little through my uniform, like when a car's brakes squeal and you grab your seat out of pure instinct and that split second of fear that you're going to crash. It was only a millisecond thing, but I noticed it.  
  
From what she's told me on numerous occasions about the weather on Muir Island, this kind of storm must have seemed puny to her, but.... Look, I'm not the most intuitive guy on the planet; nor do I make any claim that I am, either. Still, I got the strangest feeling right then that something was bothering Rahne about this sim.   
  
Shrugging to myself, I followed, taking up my place again as scout at the head of the party. Ray was already there, hustling the others back into a group - something they grumbled at him for. Of course, Ray being Ray, he just cussed right back at anyone who said a word, but given the circumstances I didn't say anything about his potty mouth, though I thought Logan might when we eventually completed the course.   
  
We moved off, careful now of the hidden potholes waiting to ingest us, as well as stopping still every time the ground so much as whimpered. It was slow going from then on in, and we still couldn't see the dang finishing line anywhere. Every time we crested a rise or came out from behind a pile of rocks I'd strain to see that little red flag Logan always sets up at the end of sims like these, but every single time I'd have to turn to everyone and shake my head again.   
  
The way got rockier, the earthquakes more and more frequent. We had to navigate our way over huge boulders slap-bang in the middle of the trail, or around and over crevasses so big they could swallow you whole and not even burp. And somehow we did it, too. After a time we even started to get the hang of passing the eggs from person to person over rocks and other roadblocks, making sure each time there was another close by to catch, just in case. The rain made everything slippery, and, of course, there was more than a little grumbling about not being able to use our powers, but we ploughed on regardless. Jubilee even tried whistling once or twice, until she found that the water dampened the sound and went up her nostrils when she tried to breathe.  
  
I don't know how long it took us. It felt like hours, but the sleet, the winds and the tremors probably made it seem like a lot longer than it actually was. I don't know if you know this, but watches and timepieces aren't a good idea in the Danger Room unless you want them smashed or embedded somewhere in your person. Yeah, that's right - in, not on. There's a rumour that Kurt once tried to wear his inducer to a session, and ended up having it removed piece by piece in the Infirmary.  
  
Sometimes I wonder how *real* army guys would fare in some of our training sessions.  
  
So, anyhow, we were just coming to the ridge of yet *another* incline, this one shaved on one side into a sheer cliff face, when we saw it. Sweet home Alabama, I've never seen a sweeter sight in all my life! The flag seemed to wave at us at the bottom of the 'mountain'. Tiny, only a speck of red really, but enough to send us all whooping. We were nearly finished! The dang sim was nearly over, and we could all go and defrost our toes ready for school. Yes, even *school* seemed a better option than where we were - or tutoring with Beast, in Jamie's case.  
  
Logan's a big fan of phrases and clichés; and it was at that point he decided to demonstrate to us one of his favourites. Namely, 'don't count your chickens 'afore they've hatched'.   
  
I should've known, really. I mean, I've done enough training session to know that Logan always saves the best - or worst, depending on how you look at it - until last. As it was, I didn't realise quite what was going on until the ground started to shake beneath us again. Except that it wasn't just some little rumble this time. No, *this*, as they say, was the big one, and with all the yelling and cheering and dancing about, we weren't anywhere near ready for it.  
  
It was as if my legs had turned to jelly, and I stumbled sideways as the first tremor hit. I'm sorry to say that I yelped, and went crashing into Ray, and from there, to the floor.  
  
"Look out!" Bobby shouted. We both looked up to see that the tight group we'd been keeping had shattered, and people were stumbling about all over the map, just trying to keep their feet - not many of them succeeding.  
  
Roberto among them.  
  
"The eggs!" I yelled, and tried to get up. However, since I was still pretty much tangled with Ray, the rain not making things any easier to see, I just fell flat on my face again. He cussed me, and I watched as Roberto's feet hit a particularly slippy spot and went from under him.   
  
He went down like a sack of potatoes, but had the forethought to toss the box of eggs away before he hit. Had he kept a hold of them, they would've been smashed, no question.   
  
"Quick, somebody; catch them!"  
  
He hit his elbow hard, but Jubilee appeared as if from nowhere and caught the box, turning her jump into some kind of fancy tumble and landing in a crouch not two feet from where I was.  
  
I gawped at her, and she must've seen my expression, because she turned around and said, "I never thought all those old gymnastics lessons would actually come in handy some day," then struck a pose. Her hair was plastered to her skull, and she dripped water, but she somehow managed to cut a dashing figure all the same. And she knew it, too.  
  
I clambered to my feet, sighing, and gestured that she give me the eggs. I don't know why, exactly. Perhaps I just wanted to make sure they were real. Or perhaps what Bobby said later was true, and I just wanted to look good being the one to carry them over the finishing line. Or maybe I was just struck by momentary madness, the same as when I went on those stupid joyrides. Whichever way, I can't remember now what made me stretch out my arms and try to take the box from her.   
  
Needless to say, Jubilee wasn't pleased.  
  
"Hey, leave off. I caught them, I'll carry them." She stuck out her bottom lip and held the plastic container away from me, under her arm. I reached for it again, but she held it above her head and dashed away. I gave chase, lumbering after her like some giant, ham-fisted dinosaur after a bird.   
  
"Jubes, quit it an' just give me the box."  
  
"Why? Come on, we're wasting time." She danced out of my reach, sticking out her tongue. "Can't catch me, Sam. I'm too quick for you without powers, and you know it."  
  
I knew it. That didn't stop me from lunging at her, though.  
  
"Whoops!" She sidestepped me easily, sticking out her foot so that I went sprawling, nose first into the mud. "My, my, so clumsy."  
  
I don't think she meant it maliciously. At least, I hope not. Jubilee's my friend, so I just assumed she was playing. You know, mischievous, like. She has a habit of doing that at the most inopportune times.   
  
Still, that comment stung. I *know* I'm not very graceful. Heck, I spent a lot of my childhood being the token gangly one at school - too big for kids' clothes, but swamped by adults', as my Ma used to say. It's a bit of a sticking point - my sore spot, if you will - and she knew it. I'd told her so more than a dozen different times.  
  
So I kept on trying to get the eggs when I should've stopped. I might've stopped, too, if it weren't for that remark. But Jubilee was right when she said that I couldn't match her without powers. She was like a wisp of smoke, always sliding away out of my grasp when I thought I had her; laughing at me and my klutzy attempts. I could see the others all crowding around, watching us. I even heard them telling us to stop being so ridiculous, that it didn't matter *who* carried the eggs, as long as they were carried safely.   
  
Rain bulleted the ground around us, and I ignored them, almost fixated on Jubilee and the plastic cube she held. My expression kept them all away, muttering to each other but staying clear to let us work this out by ourselves. They'd done it enough times when ray and Roberto got into spats, so they knew what to do.  
  
"Uh, guys?" Jamie tried to get our attention, but, as usual, we ignored him. Jubilee and I for obvious reasons, and the others because they were watching us. It was like a spectator sport, or something, despite the bad weather.  
  
"Come *on*, Sam, just leave Jubes alone and let's get *going*," Amara whined, shaking her hair free of droplets, even though it was sodden again not twelve seconds later.  
  
"Hey, no way," Ray snapped, standing up for male superiority or some other such sentiment. "Jubes should give Sam the eggs."  
  
"Why? She caught them." An edge crept into Amara's voice. Never ever challenge female sisterhood, or whatever it is they like to call it.   
  
"'Cause he's less likely to break 'em, of course."  
  
"Says who?"  
  
"Guys?"  
  
"Says me."  
  
"Ooh, you men. You're all a bunch of - "  
  
"*Guys*!"  
  
"*What*, Jamie?" they all demanded, practically in unison.  
  
He pointed at his feet. "I don't know if you've noticed, but the ground's starting to shake again, and I think we should probably - " His words were lost as the faint carping of rocks we'd all been ignoring powered up to become another full-force tremor.  
  
"Incoming!" Roberto yelled needlessly.  
  
Unprepared for the earth suddenly shifting, Jubilee came out of a jump yanked sideways, completely thrown askew. The plastic box, wet with rain and sweaty fingers, made a weird squeaky noise as it half-flew from her grasp.  
  
"Shit! The eggs!" Ray cried as he sat down, no doubt very painfully, on his butt.  
  
I could see the expression on Jubilee's face as she realised her grip was coming loose. Then again when she scrabbled to keep a hold, only worsening the matter by not watching where she was going. Jubilee's agile, but agility don't count for diddly squat when the ground's slick. I saw her eyes dart, looking for someone to toss the box to since she couldn't stop her own fall. "Rahne! Catch!"   
  
She dragged her arm back and hurled the box with as much power as she could muster, not up into the air in an arc like Roberto had done, but in a straight line towards the nearest person to her.  
  
Rahne looked up, knees a little bent inwards and arms thrown out to steady herself against the continuing quake. I could see that she wasn't ready to be catching boxes, so when it caught her in the chest it came as no surprise that it knocked her off balance.   
  
I saw her eyes go wide as she lurched backwards, trying to grab the eggs before they dropped and smashed on the floor. I saw her foot skid, skittering pebbles aside as her weight all transferred onto one leg. She was too close to the edge, I realised in an instant, and in that same split-second I saw her face switch into something akin to terror as she toppled backwards and disappeared over the lip of the cliff.  
  
"RAHNE!" I yelled, the shout ripping from my throat.  
  
I was running before I even knew what I was doing, and threw myself flat at the rim, peering over into the seemingly fathomless beyond. Footsteps followed mine, just as stupid since the remnants of the quake were still fading off as we moved and could've sent us both the same way so easily. A head of flattened black hair appeared by my shoulder, and Jubilee and I forgot out petty squabble as we looked over.  
  
I don't know about Jubes, but in my heart of hearts I was expecting the worst. In know it was only a sim, but the holographic technology in the Danger Room in top notch, and the chasm we stared into looked more realistic than the real thing. There was no way Rahne could help from falling into that bottomless pit, I thought, and for a moment my stomach heaved into my mouth. I felt sick, and had to remind myself yet *again* that it was only a sim. Just like when Bobby had fallen before, there was a crash mat down there somewhere. A nice, safe crash mat for her to land on, not the horrible spiky rocks and mineral formations I could see.  
  
"Look!" Jubilee's hand jutted under my nose, pointing. "There!"  
  
I looked, and the sudden tightness in my chest relaxed as I spotted a small, red-haired figure crouching not far below us. Rahne had somehow landed on a narrow ledge maybe ten feet down the cliff face, and was now hunkered down on it, facing away from us. Her pigtails bobbed as raindrops pummelled them, and if I squinted a bit I could just about see the edge of the plastic cube in her arms.   
  
I breathed a small sigh of relief and called her name, making Jubilee's head whip around. "Rahne! Rahne, you OK?"  
  
She didn't answer. I tried again   
  
"Rahne!"  
  
"Yo, Rahne!" Jubilee joined in the shouting as the others started to gather behind us. Still Rahne didn't move, and I frowned, starting to get little worried. I'm a worrywart at the worst of times, but something just didn't feel right. She should've been able to hear us, surely?  
  
"So what now?" Roberto appeared at my other shoulder, and Bobby tried to reclaim some of his leadership by answering him before I could.   
  
"Human chain again."  
  
I didn't have to look around to see Amara roll her eyes. I could just *feel* her doing it from there. "On no, not that *again*."  
  
"Hey, why not?" Bobby snapped, irritation clear. "It was good enough when Cannonball suggested it." He was putout, we all could tell. He never uses codenames in training sessions, even though Logan tells him to, and trademark ice practically dripped from his voice. Apparently, he was more annoyed at my impromptu takeover than I'd thought.   
  
Amara glared. I felt it in the back of my skull, even though it wasn't directed at me. "Because it takes so *long*, and I have Chemistry first period that I'm going to fail unless I start getting better grades soon. Which, if you hadn't noticed, involves actually attending classes." She pattered over. "Can't she just pass the eggs up? That way a few of us could go on to the finishing line and get this thing over with while the rest work on getting her back up here."  
  
Jubilee opened her mouth to say something, but I cut her off. "I'll go down," I said, getting to my knees.   
  
"What? No way!" Jubes folded her arms. "If you fall as well Logan'll tear strips off us for losing teammates."  
  
Amazingly, Amara came to my defence. "If we don't finish the sim sometime soon he'll do it anyway. What if those eggs are meant to represent an injured person, huh? If we don't get them to the 'hospital'," she pointed to the flag, "Soon, then they might die from exposure."  
  
"I think all the tossing them around would've done a pretty good job of sending them six feet under, anyway," Jamie chipped in, helpful as always.  
  
I started to lower myself over the rim, and Jubilee grabbed at my arm. "Hey, let go. That ledge is wide enough to take Rahne and me both, easily. I'll pass up the eggs and then we'll come back. She can stand on my shoulders. There's no rock around here to use as an anchor for a human chain like we did before, so it wouldn't be safe to try it again. And besides, it'll be quicker this way."  
  
Bobby harrumphed at having his suggestion picked to pieces, but the flaws were obvious if you just looked for them. It wasn't my fault that I happened to be the one to give them voice. More to the point, I had other, more pressing things on my mind at that moment than his sulking.  
  
"If you're going down, then I'm going," Jubilee told me, and made as if to haul me back so that she could go first. I just stared at her.  
  
"Now who's bein' ridiculous? There's not enough room for three down there, even if you *are* smaller than me. It makes more sense for me to go down. I'm taller for shoulder-standin'." I never thought the day would come; but finally, here was a situation where I could use my height to get the upper hand. Still, Jubilee tugged at my arm, biting her lip. She looked torn, but I think she could see my point, and perhaps Amara's too.  
  
"But if you fall..." she said, voice trailing off.   
  
I put my hand on her shoulder, emulating Rahne's comforting gesture as best I could, a little touched she'd be concerned over my well-being. I already felt bad about the whole trying to take the box thing. Jubilee's one of my best friends. I had no right to steal her thunder.  
  
"Then there'll be a crash mat to catch me. Don't worry, Jubes; I got it covered. Just be ready to hold the eggs when I send 'em up so they don't smash, OK? Otherwise we'll be negatin' the whole exercise."  
  
That seemed to mollify her a bit, and she let go, allowing me to turn onto my front and lower myself over the side. I searched for a foothold with my toe, found one, and got my tootsies acquainted enough with the niche that I could put my weight on it and slide down a few more feet, letting go of the horizontal ground and clinging as best I could to the vertical.  
  
Now, Logan's given us all basic training in rock climbing. It was one of the first things we ever did in the Danger Room; aside from learn basic combat moves and how to find the weak point in an opponent's punch. To my great surprise I learned that I have a talent for that sort of thing, a 'natural aptitude' he called it. At the time I just cursed my luck that my natural aptitude was for something so useless to everyday life, but at that moment, when I hugged that 'precipice' with the rain and wind lashing at my back, I was very happy indeed that my talents were so familiar with the useless.  
  
Carefully, I picked my way down, conscious of the eyes burning into the top of my head, but not daring to look either up or down for fear of losing my concentration and slipping. So I just looked solidly at the rock in front of my nose until, finally, my left foot made contact with the outcropping and I eased myself onto it with hands still pressed flat against the crags.   
  
There was a cheer from the others as I let go, and I finally looked up to wave at them. They were all crowded around the edge, watching me; so I gave a salute to lighten the mood a little - you know, give the morale a bit of a boost. I don't know if it worked or not.  
  
"Rahne?" I looked at her, less than a foot away. She was on her knees, one hand hooked into a hole like I'd been using to climb down. She hadn't budged an inch since landing, and I would've wagered my uniform she hadn't even looked up when I was coming down. She was like... like a stone statue - all still and silent, like she was shell-shocked. Not like herself.  
  
Something was off. I mean really *really* off. Rahne's only quiet when she's asleep or anxious about something, and even then not for very long. She's like this ball of energy. Even Logan's said it before; you just can't keep the girl down with bad news or whatnot. I've never, *ever* seen her the way she was right then.   
  
She had her face away from me, so I couldn't be sure she hadn't really hurt herself when she fell. My brain had already leaped to that conclusion since she was so motionless, so, carefully, I crept over, keeping my back against the cliff and trying not to look down.  
  
It's just a sim, I told myself. Just another sim like all the others we ever done.   
  
I'll tell you right now, it doesn't matter how many times you repeat a mantra to yourself like that, one glimpse down and you're history. So instead I focussed on Rahne, and reached out to pat her shoulder from behind to get her attention.  
  
"Rahne? You hurt?"  
  
She didn't answer. Didn't even move. I patted her again, and then pulled a little, trying to get her to face me.  
  
"Rahne?"  
  
She turned easily, no resistance, and I almost let go when I saw the look in her eyes. They were unfocussed, glazed, and stared right through me like I wasn't even there. I gawked at her, but even though she met my gaze I could tell she wasn't really looking at me. It was... this is going to sound really corny, but it was like it wasn't really her, just her face, with someone else using it as a mask. It was eerie to say the least, and I felt a shiver trace the length of my spine that wasn't anything to do with the cold or the rain.  
  
She looked absolutely terrified.   
  
"Yo, Farmboy!" Bobby shouted down. "Are the eggs OK?"  
  
I was so taken aback by Rahne's face that for a second I didn't hear him, and when I did realise he was talking to me, I let that horrible nickname slide like it was nothing. Bobby couldn't see Rahne's expression properly from up there. The rain must've been obscuring his vision, and he was getting impatient.   
  
I knelt down, waving my hand in front of Rahne's face. She didn't move. Gently, I eased the box out of her hands, and she let it go without problems. I chanced a glance at the eggs. Bless her heart, not one of them was even so much as cracked even after the tumble they'd taken down here. I let out a sigh of relief even though she still wasn't moving.  
  
"Rahne? Girl, you OK?" I touched her cheek, and she flinched and cowered back like a puppy that had been smacked. Nothing like the Rahne I knew.   
  
"Evil," she whispered, so soft I would've missed it if I hadn't been watching and seen her lips move.   
  
Evil? Me?  
  
Something was really, definitely wrong, and the sinking feeling in my stomach told me it wasn't anything to do with physical injuries.   
  
"Hey, Cannonball, get the lead out!"  
  
I looked up at the rest of our team and held up the box. "They're OK. If I hold 'em up, can someone grab 'em? I don't like my chances for trying to climb back with these babies. Luck only takes us so far, y'know."  
  
The faces vanished, and after a couple of minutes scuffling Amara reappeared. She moved forward, bending over the rim and stretching out her arms as Ray and Roberto held onto her legs, whilst the rest of them held onto Ray and Roberto. Next to Rahne and Jamie, Amara's the skinniest of us newbies, but I could tell that she wasn't happy about being the noose to their rope. Her hair hung draped around her face like a cowl, dripping even more water onto me when I craned my neck back.  
  
"Honestly, I'm a Princess, not a piece of meat. Hold *on* up there - this is ridiculous. If you drop me, I'll personally set all your beds alight!"  
  
"Have you been putting on weight, menina bonita?" Roberto asked, and I couldn't tell if he was serious or not. Amara? Put on weight? I think the polar ice caps would melt first.  
  
"Somebody feels like a cow!" Bobby took up the chant from somewhere towards the back until Jubes told him to shut up. He clammed his trap pretty quick sharpish at that.   
  
I said it before, and I'll say it again, don't challenge females, 'cause if others get involved they'll slaughter you, even if they don't particularly like the one they're defending.  
  
I balanced on one leg, stretching the box up for her to grasp, which she did, and was promptly dragged back up and over the top again. Ray looked back, holding out a hand like he expected me to take it from there. I'm tall, but even I have my limits.  
  
"Come on, Sam, Rahne, let's go. Not that I like school, but if I get another tardy slip it's detention for sure."  
  
I glanced down at Rahne, huddled against the cliff, shivering and staring at nothing. I bit my lip, then looked back at him and called, "Go on ahead, we'll catch up to ya. It'll take us a few minutes to navigate this cliff, and we'll just hold y'all back in the meantime."  
  
I heard Amara speak - jeez, she's got good hearing. "Finally, someone talking sense. Let's *go*."  
  
Ray didn't look convinced, so I waved to tell him it was OK. "It's fine, go and finish. Get this dang rain turned off. We'll follow."  
  
"Come on, Berzerker. He said it's fine, so let's leave already."  
  
"Go on," I called, and then coughed as rainwater got into my mouth. Mental note, don't open your yawper when leaning your head back in a storm. The wind plucked at my sodden hair, and I took a step away from the edge out of instinct.  
  
Only a sim. Only a sim.  
  
"OK, we'll finish up. But remember, if Logan yells, you told us to leave you, OK?"  
  
"OK."  
  
Ray vanished. A few seconds later Jubilee peered over. She didn't say anything, but I could tell she wasn't happy about the situation. Still, Amara's whining, if nothing else, spurred her to follow the others. The fact that Miss Hoity-Toity came and physically dragged her away might've had something to do with it, too.  
  
When they were gone I looked back at Rahne and crouched next to her. She was really starting to freak me out, and I touched her hand the way I always do to make her look at me when we're watching TV and junk.  
  
"Hey, Rahne, what's up?"  
  
She pulled her hand back and whispered again. "Evil."  
  
"Why're you sayin' I'm evil? Did I do sumthin' wrong?" A selfish question, and I would've kicked myself had it not involved plummeting into the depths. "Rahne? Talk to me, please. What's wrong?"  
  
She blinked, and for the first time I felt like she was looking at me. "Not you," she said. "Me. He said I was evil. But... but I'm not. I'm not..."  
  
I frowned, water running into my eyes through the creases and making me blink so that I couldn't see properly. "Darnit - uh, who said that? Bobby? Roberto? Jamie? Was one of the older kids pickin' on you?" I suddenly felt very protective, and tried to touch her hand again.  
  
This time she let me, and even went so far as to look at my finger over hers. I've got big hands - workman's hands my Ma used to call them, all wide fingers and a thumb that gets in the way whenever I try to do anything delicate. That's why Paige was always better at helping Pa with his model ships than me. I always broke the sails putting them into the bottles. Rahne's hands are tiny and slender, and mine dwarfed them.  
  
She looked up at my face, and I tried a reassuring smile. I'm not exactly experienced in them, since most folk I know are cheery enough that I don't need to reassure them. Still, I tried all the same, and got the shock of my life when, out of the blue, she fell forward into my arms and started sobbing fit to break her heart.  
  
At first I didn't know what to do. I'd never known Rahne to so much as sniffle before. Truth be told, it was normally her holding Jamie as he bawled when he'd tripped over and cut his knee or something. Or maybe even with Amara when she's homesick for Nova Roma - which happens a lot more than you might think, considering her general everyday attitude. But not Rahne. Never Rahne.   
  
Tentatively, half expecting her to bat me away again, I put my arms around her and let her cry it out onto my uniform. I rocked back and forth, shushing her as best I could. The rain pelted like hard pebbles and the gale tried to pull us off our perch, but I hardly noticed. I just wanted to know what had happened to spark such a reaction. Rahne's a tough little piece, as she'll tell you herself. Seeing her like that was.... well, it was confusing to say the least. Scary, too. Much scarier than any fake chasm in a sim, no matter how realistic.   
  
"Shhh, it's OK," I said, with no idea what I was saying. How could I tell her it was OK when I didn't know what was wrong to begin with? But I didn't force her. It seemed wrong to do anything be but there and let her use me as a soggy tissue.  
  
"He s-said... I was e-evil," she choked after a while. "He called me a Devil Child... I'm not, I'm not, I'm not..." She shook her head, more to herself than to me. "I'm not evil... b-but he's... he should know... am I? Oh God! I don't want to go back, Sam. God help me, I don't want to go back to that. When I fell... I thought it was all happening again. I saw it; the torches, his face... leering at me - everything."  
  
"Who?" I asked; rubbing her back like my Ma used to do when I was a kid and scared by thunder or the stud bull.   
  
She didn't answer my question, but kept talking anyway. Her words came fast, jumbled up like she was scared that if she stopped she'd never be able to start again. I got the feeling this was something she'd bottled up inside her for a long time, and just listened until they ran dry, rubbing her back and blinking rainwater out of my eyes.  
  
"I... I wasn't even meant to be out that night, but... but I couldn't help myself. Mama told me not to go; she said he was watching me. He suspected, she knew, but he didn't... he didn't have no proof... But I didn't listen. I thought I could take care of myself easy... I wanted... I wanted to run, I wanted to dance for the moon, and... and I did until he found me. Until *they* found me. Oh God, there were so many of them, all watching... they... they knew... somehow they'd known I was gonna be there, and they were waiting for me, hiding..." She buried her face in my shoulder, trembling. I felt her fist clenching and unclenching the fabric over my ribs, tightening and then letting go, only to tighten again less than a second later.  
  
"You don't have to go on if'n you don't wanna," I tried to say, but she was already carrying on like she hadn't even heard me.   
  
"I tried to run away, but they followed me. Through all the fields... the moors... they just wouldn't give up. And he kept calling, shouting after me until they all chanted it, 'Devil Child', 'Devil Child'... I shifted - what was the point in hiding it any more? But that just made them chase me more. Least I could use four legs to get away, but... they hounded me worse than the hunt used to go after foxes, never letting up... I was so scared - I couldn't lose them anywhere! People I knew, who I'd grown up with, they were all there... right up onto the cliff top. Where else could I go? Not home... and then... and then... oh God!" She let out a strangled yelp and pushed back, arms straight and hands laid flat on my chest, eyes wide like new moons.   
  
It was that look in her eyes that stopped me blushing at where her hands were. She was petrified, like an animal caught in the headlights of a car, or a gigged frog. Her mouth opened and shut, as if her voice was trying to get out but couldn't because it was stuck fast in her gullet.  
  
"And then?" I prompted, hoping it would help some.  
  
"He said I was an abomination, that I had to go back to Hell," she murmured, eyes glazed and staring right through me again. Like she was reliving what she was saying right then and there. "Then he... he..." she trailed off.  
  
"Rahne?"  
  
"He... pushed."  
  
She didn't have to say any more. I could picture the whole horrible thing in my mind far too easily. It echoed the scene with the eggs, except this time it wasn't a box that pushed her over the edge of a cliff; it was a person. And it wasn't us standing around her yelling; it was a lynch mob, baying for blood and cheering as she went toppling off. I could almost hear her screaming, voice ringing in my ears, and my blood seemed to freeze in my veins.   
  
I stiffened at almost exactly the same time as she relaxed and flopped forward, with the result that I found myself holding her close to my chest. Not exactly the way I'd pictured myself first doing that - drenched in rain, cold and shivery on a phoney ledge over a phoney ravine, with all her old demons coming up for air. Neither was it for quite the same reason. But I clutched her tight and didn't want to let go in case some spectre from her past came and threw off this cliff like he had the last one.  
  
"It's OK. You're safe now," I said with as much authority as I could gather. I didn't know what else to say, so I just kept repeating myself like a stuck record. "You're safe. You're safe, now. It's OK, don't worry."  
  
"I don't know how they didn't spot me on that ledge," she said. "I kept thinking they were going to come down and finish the job, and I stayed there nearly all night, just... waiting for them. I couldn't go home, he would've found me... hurt my family. He... he said they'd sinned by bringing me into the world, by keeping me secret even when they knew... what I was. I had to leave... run away... I-I didn't even get to say goodbye." She sniffed, and her voice went so low even I had trouble hearing it. "They probably think I'm dead now..."  
  
All of a sudden I felt angry. I mean really, incredibly angry. So angry, in fact, that I wanted to punch something - a feeling I'd never had before, and didn't much like. I'm not a violent person, regardless of my mutant power, and I didn't know the identity of this 'he' she was talking about; but if he'd been there right then, I've no doubt I would've slugged him one and thrown him to Logan without one single ounce of guilt.  
  
All the same, I didn't say anything. I mean, what was I supposed to do? It's not every day that you find out your best friend was once thrown off a cliff for being a mutant. Suddenly a lot of things started to make sense, slotting into place inside my head. The way Rahne didn't like talking about her past pre-Muir; the way she stares at the moon sometimes; the way she makes out that Muir Island's her home even though she only stayed there a few months. Little things I'd always written off as idiosyncrasies, but which now seemed so much more.  
  
Somebody had taken her life from her, all because of a freaky gene.   
  
Well, not literally, but as good as.   
  
When my powers first showed up my family stood by me. If anything, we got closer, and all of us were there when Xavier first came to visit with his offer of schooling up north. I couldn't imagine going through all this without them there, just a phonecall away, ready to leap to my defence if needs be.  
  
Rahne didn't have any of that. She couldn't just pick up and dial her folks, talk to them about what she's been doing, and ask to come home for a visit. Somewhere, there's probably a gravestone with her name on it, and people who cry over her. Sure, she has Muir, and Dr. MacTaggart, but it's not the same. The state of her right then showed quite plainly that it's not the same.  
  
"I'm sorry," she said into my front, half muffled. I startled and looked down.  
  
"Say what? What's there to be sorry about?"  
  
"I never meant to be evil. I did everything I was told - said my prayers at night, went to services, but... but it wasn't enough. It'll never be enough. We weren't devout enough for him, and his eyes... they kept following wherever I went. Just watching, waiting for me to slip up... He said it was the only way to save me..."  
  
Someone had done a real good job of frightening her into believing his lies along the line, and the anger inside me came back.  
  
"Who?" I asked, hoping it wouldn't show in my voice. "Who was it, Rahne?"  
  
She didn't answer. It was like she was in some kind of trance. So, much as I hated to peel her away, I put my hands on her shoulders and held her at arm's length. She was like a marionette with all its strings cut, floppy and hardly there. Just... staring. It was as if she was in shock - or already dead.  
  
"Rahne," I said, and moved into her blank line of sight. "Rahne, who did it? Who pushed you, Rahne?"  
  
"Who?" she repeated dully.  
  
"Yeah. Who?"  
  
"Craig."  
  
Craig? I'd never heard that name before, and visions of old boyfriends rose up in my selfish little mind the moment she said it. I pushed them away, and focussed on her instead.  
  
"Rahne, who's Craig? Someone you knew?"  
  
"Our Reverend."   
  
"Your - oh *fuck*!" The curse came out before I had time to think about what I was saying, and had I not been holding onto her I would've clapped my hands over my mouth.  
  
One thing you should know about me is that I don't cuss. As in, at all. My Ma never did it, my Pa never did it, and when my Uncle Herman once tried to at the dinner table, he got a soup ladle across his fingers. Everybody knows that I don't do it, too. It's one of the things Ray loves to pick on me for, and he and Bobby are both constantly trying to goad me into saying something I shouldn't. So when I said that word, the worst word I'd ever said, it was enough to make Rahne blink out of her stupor and look at me in surprise.  
  
"Sam," she said, incredulous. "You... swore."  
  
"Uh," I replied, articulate as always. "I mean, uh... I did, didn't I? But... geez, Rahne. That's not a statement you greet with a shower of rose petals."  
  
She blinked, obviously processing what I'd said. "I guess not." There was a pause, and then she looked away. It was almost as if she was embarrassed. "I'm sorry."  
  
"Sorry? *Sorry*?" My voice rose a pitch and I schooled it back down again with a hasty cough. "Rahne, you do *not* say you're sorry for sumthin' like that. That's like... like... well, I don't rightly know what it's like, but you still shouldn't say it. Sorry's a word for when you've done sumthin' wrong, and you, most definitely, have done nuthin' of the sort!" I was ranting a bit, but I felt I had good reason.  
  
"But I have. Maybe... not quite the same way as *he* said. Moira and the Professor made me see that much, but... I never meant to lump all my problems on you, nor anyone else for that matter. I even made Professor Xavier keep it all a secret from you guys. He was so good about it too, and now I've gone and broken my promise to myself. I said I wouldn't..."  
  
"He knows?"  
  
"Aye. When I left... I had some money with me. Not much, but enough for a train ticket. I just picked the one I could afford and got on without looking back. He and Logan were waiting for me when I arrived at the other end."  
  
I tried to look at her face, but she kept it away from me. "But why? Why didn't you want us to know? Did you think we'd look down on you? Was that it? We'd never - "  
  
"No. It's... I just didn't want anybody pitying me. Scott, Jean, Jubilee - everybody. They're nice enough, but one whiff of them and I could tell they were the sort who'd only feel sympathy if I told them what'd happened. I didn't want their pity, or anybody else's. I still don't. I have my pride, y'know. Plus, there was the chance they'd... wanna help, but doing anything would only make it worse. I can't go back. Can't turn back the clock. I caused my parents a lot of grief, growing up. You know I'm second gen; they spent so long just hiding my mutations from the world. We didn't know about mutants where I come from, which is why *he* thought I was... possessed. It wouldn't be fair to... Muir's my home now; I've accepted that fact. Old wounds, they heal. It's just... I just..."  
  
"What about me?" I asked. "Did you think I'd pity you, too? Rahne, you're one of the strongest people I've ever known. Whatever went on in the past, whatever ghosts you got, you're our friend, and if you'd a' told us then we would've accepted your decisions. I thought that was what bein' a team was all about; bein' there for each other, bein' able to respect each other's wishes and stay together regardless. That's what I thought, at any rate, and I'd wager all next month's chores that the others feel the same way. Sure, some of 'em can be jerks when they wanna, but we're your teammates, Rahne; and more than that, we're your friends. I'm the first to admit that ain't had many friendships in my life, so I ain't exactly experienced in 'em, but from what I've learned here, these people are some of the best you can get. Plus, if I'd so much as tried to take pity, you probably would've taken a chunk outta my leg."  
  
She looked up at me. OK, so it was a speech, and a Cyclops-like speech to boot, but I meant every word. I stared back at her, hoping she knew that and didn't think I was just being holier-than-thou again.   
  
The silence stretched. Oh jeez, she thinks I'm a complete bore, doesn't she?  
  
"Y'know," she said slowly, "Odd as it sounds, that's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me."   
  
"Which? The Scott-ism, or the bit about you threatenin' me with violence?"  
  
"Both." She smiled, and it was a sweeter sight than even than darn red flag. I must've grinned like a mad thing too, because she sighed and said, "Thanks, Sam. I guess I never realised how much I needed to tell someone all that."  
  
"How d'ya mean?" I let go of her arms and sat back on my heels. She pointed to the middle of her chest, then to her head.  
  
"I feel better inside. Sort of... well, sort of *cleansed*. Och, you talk about your Scott-isms, and then I go and come out with a pure corny Jean-ism." She pulled a face, and I laughed. That was more like the Rahne I knew.   
  
But she was right. She *did* seem different somehow. Like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Her posture was more relaxed, and her smile was freer, like she wasn't hiding anything behind it, if you can understand that. I suppose I'd never seen before how tense she was, carrying that kind of thing around inside all the time. Not until it was gone, at least - not all gone, but eased a little. She'd aired her grievances and tossed the skeletons out of her closet; and even if she never told another soul I was glad she'd got them off her chest. I won't say I felt privileged that she chose me to tell them to, because she didn't actually choose me. Still, a tiny bit of my brain was real proud of itself right then.  
  
"You're right. That was both corny, and a Jean-ism. Do you think it's because of the red hair?" I plucked at her soggy pigtail, and she gave a small, thin laugh.  
  
"Bampot," she batted my hand away, so I went for the other one, alternating between the two snags of hair until she was properly laughing Not the polite giggling most people hear her use, but that low chuckling deep in her throat that she only uses when she means it. Her 'True Laugh' as Jubilee and I once named it. I wanted to hear her laugh again, to remind both her and myself that she still could.  
  
It was stupid, I know, but right then I didn't care about the rain or the wind as we played and messed about. The outcropping wasn't exceptionally wide, and we could've fallen off it at any second, but I don't think either of us much cared. For a few minutes, at least, we needed to feel like kids again. Not mutants with special powers, just kids.  
  
She clamped her hands over her pigtails, and I tweaked her ears instead.   
  
"Yowch! A'right, Guthrie you muckle-sumph - now it's personal!"  
  
"Ooh, I'm so scared." I shielded her off my own ears, then darted my hand under her arm and pulled at her unprotected pigtail again. Not enough to hurt, but enough that she squeaked. I grinned and tried for the other one, but she was ready for me and intercepted my hand, forcing it down then flailing for the other one to pin it too.  
  
For such a little thing, Rahne's deceptively quick and strong. She grabbed my other hand, no problem, and yanked it away from her head, with the result that I jolted forward when she pressed them flat against the ledge. She pulled back a bit, thinking I was trying to give what she calls 'a Glasgow kiss' - which basically translates as hitting someone with your own head. I know, because she's given plenty to Ray when he bothers her in that oh-so-annoying way he's so good at.  
  
"Hey, lemmie go." I attempted removing my hands, but she rested her weight on them and they stayed firmly in place.  
  
"Not a chance. I like my hair exactly where it is," she grinned, and then her expression faltered a smidgen. "Sam? Hang on a tick, will you? Look, uh, this is gonna sound really trite, but, um... thank you."  
  
"For what?" I didn't know what she was talking about, and looked at her like a gormless idiot. No change from the usual there, then.  
  
"For listening. I appreciate it, really. I don't want you to think that I don't, because of what I said. I do. It's just... a little difficult. This sim brought it all back, y'know? I know I acted a bit weird, spacing out and all, but... just... well... thank you, is all. Just, thank you... Och, I sound like a complete retard, don't I?" She gave lopsided smile. "Forgive me?"  
  
I looked at her, and told her with my silence she didn't need to even ask. There was, after all, nothing to forgive.   
  
I don't know what prompted my next move. Perhaps it was the rain drumming all around us. Perhaps it was the way she was looking at me, hopeful, pleading and relieved all at the same time. Perhaps it was the way her hair was all flat and soggy, or the way I kept having to blink to get water out of my eyes. Perhaps it was something. Perhaps it was nothing. I don't even know what I was thinking beyond making her know that the past was the past, and the future was something not yet written.  
  
I closed my eyes, and leaned forward...  
___________________ 


	3. Important Notice

IMPORTANT NOTICE  
  
Part Three turned out to be a lot darker than even I expected. So dark, in fact, that if I'd posted it along with the other two parts the whole fic would undoubtedly be pulled in a cold second. Therefore, I've instead elected to upload it as a fic in its own right in the R rated section. *This does not make it a lemon!* Just thought I'd clarify that. Since the NC-17 fiasco the common view of R fics is that they're all full of graphic sex and violence. Part Three isn't. It's just that some of the themes are a bit too mature for a PG-13 rating, and would get me into a lot of trouble if I posted them here. Yes, I could have transferred the entire thing to the R section so as to keep all parts together, but since the last part could stand up as a fic in its own right to a degree, I opted to keep it separate. It now goes by the title 'Lament'.  
  
Thanks for listening.   
  
SCRIBBLER ^_^ 


End file.
